You’ve planted your roots under the humid sun,

pushing the earthen ground of filial obedience,

to find the water of appreciation and peace,

seeking the nutrients of innate contentment.


But you have been uprooted too often,

that your body is torn and bloodied, 

with the sins of your past,

with the karmas of your future.


You realise you only have the strength,

to gain stability in the concrete homes,

of those that never had the heart,

to give you loyalty in the first place.


Shiver at the ironic natures of this world!


The roots that you buried,

have been left to wither and die,

under the humid sun and the breezy winds,

the memories; the laugher.


Your living soul Is nothing but a distant past of a life once lived and mourned.





Like withered leaves,
frolicking to autumn’s eddying air,
I’ll never know,
when will I settle,
satisfy the needs of innate contentment,
accept that the established sentiment,
of yesteryear’s regrets and dispositions,
were brewed; resonance of seasons,
of torment and wholesome blues,
the despair of crouching in broken homes,
lined with vines of toughened roots,
of darkened esteems and confidence,
to approach life.

When will I settle,
heal the chasms of neurotic inanities,
reject the weakened foundations of these paper towns,
glorified by the insatiable greed of paper people,
making cutout love in flimsy suburbia,
that failed to quench the pleas of adam-kind,
to erase the mistake,
of star-crossed sins and entwined hues;
the longing for better times,
to approach life.



I’m fine, I’m fine,

As I struggle between the lines.

I lay each night with my fears,

And the blanket holds my tears.

My body is the shell of someone I knew,

They pity on me like a Holocaust Hebrew.

They say it will heal with time,

But I’m dancing to Death’s chime.

My mother says I’m getting thinner,

As I took pills and prayed like a sinner.

Darkness bloomed deeper and deeper,

My soul  reserved for the merciless reaper.

Lying in the abyss of doubt so alone,

We suffer in a world of our own.

The brain shivers from the cold,

Of seeing saints made of gold.

We were meant to say goodbye,

Throwing my soul to the sky.

Killed my demons who used to aspire,

Playing with fire to burn my pyre.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t strong enough.

The Earth blew winds that were too rough

God wasn’t there for my salvation

The nativity of Death lieth my redemption

They told me I will conquer the world

I told them it won’t be this world.

They said I couldn’t leave those I loved

To dust I’ll return, fallen or shoved.

They said I was soft-spoken,

But mentally I was just broken

They tell me that this is acrid mirth,

If only my mother had buried me in millenial Earth.

From ashes to ashes,

From failure to failure,

I will return,

A victim of my behaviour.



“Your words are like shards,

Transparent like your heart

Opaque like your intentions

But you hold them to my throat,

And the power to kill seeps within you.


You tear through my broken skin,

slowly, enjoying the pain,

Blood drips through my mouth,




You enjoy the bloodbath

My veins the strings to your symphony;

It gives you power

It makes me vulnerable

But I stay and let you carry on

Because I love the way it hurts


But as I bleed to death

You pull back the shards and whisper

“I’m so in Love with you”.